


Not Very Good With Animals

by Elsinore_and_Inverness



Category: Good Omens
Genre: Gen, Hell, Horses, Inadequate horsemanship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-12-31 14:50:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12134799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elsinore_and_Inverness/pseuds/Elsinore_and_Inverness
Summary: Crowley attempts to ride a horse. It does not go well.





	Not Very Good With Animals

**Author's Note:**

> "Crowley usually fell off"

The horse was massive, or at least it seemed massive to Crowley. It was probably about average for a horse someone his height would be expected to ride. Rivulets of blood ran down its face from flickering red eyes, matting dark bluish fur. 

Crowley blinked at it slowly, a third eyelid sliding horizontally across his yellow eyes. He was shy about that, but he didn't expect the horse to realize that, demon or not. The horse stared at him impassively. It didn't seem to have any eyelids at all. 

Some demons rode bareback, some had gilded saddles, but neither of those seemed particularly comfortable to Crowley. He was more of a foot soldier, in the grand scheme of things, but Hell didn't do foot soldiers.

What Crowley had was originally a dressage saddle, only no one was using that word yet, and most of the embroidery had been pulled out. If you looked closely you could just about make out the outline of another, smaller army of demon horses stitched in woad and madder. He picked at the threads absently. He was dawdling and everyone knew it. The horse stamped the ground impatiently. The ground, if it could be called that, unfortunately, happened to be a thin sheet of igneous rock over a layer of magma which broke apart under its hooves and Crowley had to leap out of the way to keep from burning his snaky feet. The horse seemed entirely untroubled by the molten rock burning through the keratin of its hooves.

That was the thing about horses Down Here. Nothing spooked them. Not that anything spooked Crowley either, of course.

They were also preternaturally obedient, but the problem was their riders weren't the ones they were obedient to.

Crowley knew he only had a matter of minutes before someone broke off from the group and turned around to find out what was taking so long.

He planted his left foot in the stirrup as firmly as he could and swung himself onto the horse's back. Suddenly the ground seemed very far away.   
He'd said that nothing spooked the Horses of Hell, and while that was broadly true, none of them had any affinity for snake that had, in their opinion, indirectly brought about the enslavement of their brothers and sisters Upstairs.  
Crowley and the horse set off at what he felt to be a quite expedient walk, but in an instant Hastur had pulled up beside him, his small horse with a long forelock covering its eyes- presumably it had eyes- bouncing energetically. 

'Distracted again, Crawly?'

'Crowley.'

'Same thing.'

'No.'

'Come on then.' Hastur dug his heel into his horse's side and rejoined the ranks at a light trot.   
Crowley tasted the air nervously, sliding his hands higher up the reins. He wasn't comfortable at anything faster than a walk. He never seemed to be able to find the rhythm of it or figure out what the horse was trying to do.

What the horse was trying to do was get Crowley off its back without Crowley realizing that was what he was trying to do. His posture was wrong, he was too tense, and the horse couldn't see how he could possibly be of any use to an army of demons. And his feet were sliding out of the stirrups already.

Crowley almost made it to the Gate this time. Unfortunately that meant he was riding just behind the Dukes of Hell when he fell off.  
His right foot slipped out of the stirrup and in a panicked overcompensation he toppled over sideways. This tugged at the girth strap under the horse, yanking the saddle off center. The horse moved steadily away from him at little more than a walk.

Crowley rolled over with a soft moan, and healed his sprained ankle. He looked up at the circle of Dukes and Duchesses that had formed around him.

'Sorry,' he muttered.

'What's that?' Ligur asked.

'Snake boy is apologizing again.'

'Sorry.'

'Not very demonic is it?'

'My kingdom for absolutely anything that's not a horse, eh?' Crowley tried again.

'You don't have a kingdom.'

'Well, of course not, no, it's-'

Hastur scratched his head 'This isn't one of your metaphors again, is it?'

'Well, actually it's-'

'Why's he pretending to have a kingdom when he doesn't even have a horse?' someone wondered. One of the Underdukes.

Crowley sighed. He needed to get Upstairs again, and soon. He couldn't deal with this.


End file.
